I Will Follow You into the Dark
by ScaryElwes
Summary: They knew they were doomed from the start. But that didn't stop them from trying to save each other. Oneshot.


**A/N: Aha! Welcome to my second fic. So before you read, I have to say that a few things inspired this oneshot. The first is the song I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab For Cutie. If you haven't heard it yet, I really recommend that you do, because it's a beautiful song, and goes along with this fic perfectly, if I do say so myself. And second..well, I'll tell you in the second author's note, 'cause it'll ruin the fic if I tell you now. Gosh, I'm such a tease. Anywhoo, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Saw. If I did, I'd own Leigh Whannell, and I'm not even getting started on what I'd do then. Title credit goes to Death Cab For Cutie.**

**I Will Follow You Into The Dark**

_We're gonna be okay?_

That's what Adam wanted to say. What he meant to say. What he needed to say. He'd spent more than six fucking hours in this hellhole of a bathroom, the entire time having no idea of whether he was going to live through it or not. The seemingly eternal period of time had been stumbled through clumsily, while the future had remained a black abyss of unknown.

But now, now that that Adam had a chance, a tiny, yet glimmering chance of living, he wanted to know. He felt as if he'd given Fate it's time to consider, and he was patient, at first. But now, he was fully prepared to bang down the door and demand some answers, thank you very fucking much.

And yet, he couldn't find it in himself to ask those four desperate words. Because, underneath the curiosity, and the need to know, Adam already knew the answer.

He knew that no, he was not going to be okay. Adam was going to die in this very room. In his mind he acknowledged it with a calm sort of frenzy.

So what was the point of asking the stupid question anyways?

What could he say to Lawrence, who was looking at Adam as expectantly as he could, with his paling face and trembling lips? Lawrence Gordon, the man whom Adam had endured hell with, and the man that Adam knew he couldn't go on without?

He didn't know how or when it had happened. Somehow, and somewhere, in the huge mess of tears, blood and torn photographs, the two captives had gone from strangers, to enemies, to two weeping souls clinging to each other on the floor. Adam felt safe with Lawrence, despite their surroundings.

He only knew that if Lawrence stayed, everything would be okay. If Lawrence stayed, a SWAT team would burst in through the doors with salvation and cigarette packs clutched in their gloved hands. If Lawrence stayed, there would be no need to ask if they'd be okay, because they _would _be okay. Because Lawrence would be here, and Adam could tell him just how much he meant to him. That he had helped Adam more than Jigsaw ever did, or would.

Things would be okay. Lawrence would be here, and Adam could tell him that he'd somehow fallen in love with the doctor. He'd been put in here in hopes of becoming a changed man, and all that had happened was his transition into a fruit. Go figure.

But how do you fit all of that mushiness into four useless words?

So Adam closed his eyes. He wasn't giving up. Hell no. He'd already spent too long crying, like some pathetic twelve-year old version of himself. It was time to actually stand up and fight for what was important. Adam closed his eyes, a sob escaping his throat as he breathed.

"Please," he said brokenly. "Please, Lawrence, _stay_. I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to make it. Just stay, for me…"

His shoulder throbbed. And by _God_, it hurt. But Adam continued to beg.

"_Please_…"

Adam opened his closed lids. And he didn't know what had triggered it, or what he'd said differently this time, but Lawrence was slowly shaking his head, indecision etched deep in his features. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if preparing for a dive.

Adam hadn't noticed, but when he'd begged, pleaded Lawrence not to leave, something in him had changed. A wall, or barrier, had fallen down, and Lawrence saw just how frightened Adam was. He saw Adam's vulnerability, something that had been guarded way too heavily for a man of his age. He also saw Adam's surprisingly strong faith in him, and he knew he couldn't leave that behind. The instinct to protect was far too strong to do anything about it. Adam hadn't seen or noticed anything of this change. But Lawrence had.

This was why he was now turning himself around, dragging himself back to Adam.

He struggled, at first. And at one point, his elbows almost went out. But soon enough, he had returned to Adam's side.

For what seemed like the first time in years, Adam allowed a smile to stretch across his face. It only grew when he felt Lawrence's hand return to its spot on his cheek.

"Adam," Lawrence whispered. "Adam. I'm...S-s-sorry. I'm so…So…Sorry. I'll never leave again. I…P-promise." His voice was thick with tears and shock. But most of all fear. Adam's calm, soothing rock was afraid. And it scared him shitless. He ran his hand through the sweaty strands of Lawrence's hair, ignoring the screaming in his shoulder.

_You selfish bastard_, a sneering voice in his piped up.

Was that his conscience? No, he didn't have a conscience. If he did, he wouldn't have ended up in here in the first place. Still, the voice carried on.

_You just eliminated any chance of him escaping. And returning to his wife and daughter. And getting help for your pathetic ass. You might have just ended four lives, one of them your own. But do you care? No. Selfish, twisted, bastard. You make me sick. Selfish, selfish, selfish..._

The voice began to chant. Its mantra soon became a hum in Adam's head. He tuned it out as best as he could, bury his head deeper into the crook of Lawrence's neck. He refused to hear, because he knew it was right.

Adam was being greedy for making Lawrence stay. He had his own life to save. He had a family to save. His daughter wasn't even ten years old yet, for God's sake.

_And don't forget, _the voice added. _By keeping Lawrence with you, you're only cutting his life shorter. He's going to bleed to death very quickly, and you know that. Makes this little reunion a bit more special, don't you think? All because you're selfish, selfish, selfish, selfish…_

And the chant began again, stronger this time. It taunted Adam. It emanated from deep within his mind with no discernable source. It fully consumed him, despite the sobbing embrace that enveloped his whole torso.

The chant grew so loud that it seemed to have a human presence in the room. Adam felt as if he'd see it right in front of him, if he'd bother to open his eyes. He could hear the voice's labored breathing, its aged, wrinkly skin sliding on the tiles. He could feel the weight of its human body vibrating through the porcelain floor.

It was so real. Too real. Wait a minute.

Adam opened his eyes and raised his head from Lawrence's shoulder. And what he saw robbed him of breath.

It was the corpse. The corpse that Adam and Lawrence had believed to be _dead_. The corpse who'd been lying in the center of the room the entire, fucking time. It was _moving_. Oh my God, it was alive, and it was raising itself up from the floor!

The man stood, looking literally like something that had been brought back from the dead. His legs appeared stiff, almost numb, as if he'd topple right over if given a gentle push. He squinted up at the fluorescent lights, his mouth agape as it took in huge, grateful gulps of air. And then, to Adam's horror, he reached up and ripped the seemingly plastic gore right from his scalp.

For a moment, he just stood there, savoring the taste of oxygen without the risk of being seen.

Lawrence's shaking jaw was slack, and his complexion appeared even more deathly white.

"Jig-jig-j-jig…" was all he managed to stutter. But Adam understood him perfectly. And he knew he was right. The man towering over them was none other than the Jigsaw Killer himself.

Finally, Jigsaw looked down upon the two men.

Almost instinctively, Adam crawled forward until he was somewhat in front of Lawrence, the best defensive stance he could manage. Just as long as Lawrence didn't get any more hurt. That was all that mattered.

"I don't believe I've seen any subject react to a test quite like you two have," Jigsaw spoke. His voice was weak, quiet, somewhat breathless, so unlike the intimidating growl that dominated the tapes.

He turned to Adam.

"Adam, not only did you fail your test, proving how little appreciation you have for the life you've been given, but you interfered with Doctor Gordon's, proving just what a nuisance you are."

The words didn't even register in Adam's frozen brain. He was too focused on the cold, blue eyes that zoomed themselves in on Lawrence behind him.

"Doctor Gordon. I feel like you have somewhat succeeded, despite the fact that you failed to kill Adam in time. There is a small amount of hope for you, there's no denying that. You've found your escape, so why are you still here?"

Lawrence refused to answer. Correction, he was getting too weak to answer. He only reached forward, and gripped Adam's elbow with a weakness that terrified Adam. It brought strength to both men, and seemed to serve as an answer for the cruel being before them.

Jigsaw's ice-like eyes narrowed in on Lawrence's hand.

"I see," he remarked calmly, yet coldly. "Apparently this game hasn't changed either of you in the slightest. The only thing I've done is bring two ungrateful souls together."

Yet another sob rose in Adam's throat, but he stifled it. He refused to show any more signs of pain, any other weakness to their captor. He'd been in the room. He'd heard Adam scream hopelessly. But enough was enough. The thought of giving the psychopath any more satisfaction made him sick.

Jigsaw sighed before slipping into a small fit of coughs. Once he recovered, he addressed Lawrence once more.

"Doctor Gordon. As I said, there are ways to win this. You didn't fully succeed, but I'm willing to give you a third chance. Why don't we strike up a deal? Join me. Become my apprentice. You could be part of something greater than your own self. You're slowly but surely bleeding to death. I can have an ambulance here in under five minutes. All you have to do is say the word."

He made the offer sound like a free trip to Vegas.

How cold and empty must you be to have the ability to sugar coat a lifetime of servitude?

Adam glanced behind himself, at the trembling, white creature that was once Lawrence. The creature lifted himself onto his elbows, having been resting on his chin, and looked jigsaw right in the eyes.

"I'd…I'd rather die." He mustered, though it was so feeble and weak it brought fresh tears to Adam's eyes.

Jigsaw smiled, though it was far from comforting, and said dryly, "Well, it looks like you're getting your wish anyways."

And with that, he turned to leave the room.

Both Lawrence and Adam yelped out in protest. Adam crawled forward, wanting to at least punch the asswipe before being left to his death, but then he realized that he was at the end of his chain. He cried out even louder and shook his left foot desperately, rattling the metal as hard as he could. At this, Jigsaw turned around once more.

"Oh, and Adam, the key to that chain was in the bathtub."

Adam froze. His jaw dropped, and he glanced at the wretched tub he'd fallen out of earlier. Had it only been six hours ago?

The entire time. The solution had been in the room _the entire time_. So Lawrence hadn't had to slice his foot off. They both could've gotten out of here. If only Adam hadn't thrashed _so fucking much_ upon awakening!

There was another addition to his list of numerous faults. He was definitely going to Hell now.

Adam turned his head in time to see Jigsaw flip off the lights and exit the room.

"Game over!" He cried, though it sounded warped and hollow as it echoed throughout the room. Then Jigsaw slammed the sliding door shut.

For a few minutes, all Adam could do was screaming. He yelped, he shrieked, he sobbed, as loud as he possibly could. He would've continued screaming, if it weren't for the cold, trembling hand that crept its way up his good shoulder. The hand that, despite, its temperature and stability, brought a small sliver of comfort to Adam.

Lawrence. Lawrence was here.

For a moment, joy flared though Adam's chest. But then, just as quickly, it was extinguished.

Lawrence was here. And he was practically dead.

Adam made his way back to Lawrence's side. At that point, he was lying flat on his back, his chest rising and falling at a pace too slow for comfort.

He didn't even have the strength to hold himself up anymore.

His eyes barely adjusted to the dark, Adam fumbled around blindly until his hands found Lawrence's face. When they did, Adam broke down once more. There was no one here to see him this time. No evil being with ice cold eyes to scoff at his pain. No one would laugh at how terrified Adam truly was anymore.

"Law-Law-Lawrence, Lawrence…" Adam whimpered. God, was he ever going to stop crying? He sounded like such a blubbering idiot.

Lawrence lifted his hand and pressed it to Adam's, holding the twined fingers to his cheek.

"Hush, Adam. Hush…" He reached up with feeble arms and pulled Adam down to him. Adam tentatively laid his head on Lawrence's chest, terrified of putting too much weight on him. He pressed his ear to the elder's breast, suddenly determined to hear something. The slow, flimsy ticking that resounded in Lawrence's chest was too pitiful to be a heartbeat.

No. That couldn't be it.

Adam burrowed his head deeper and sobbed. Both to his delight and horror, clumsy, sluggish fingers ran themselves through his hair.

The two captives simply lay like that. In a stale, pregnant silence that was only interrupted by Adam's ragged breathing. They could've spoken, taken advantage of the older man's final moments. But they didn't. They didn't feel the need. What was there to say, anyways?

It was maybe a few minutes, or hours later, that Adam sensed it happening. He didn't quite know how. Maybe it was how Lawrence's already sloth-like breathing had grown impossibly slower. Or how the wretched, ticking excuse for a heartbeat had become hard to keep track of at all. Or maybe, at that point, Adam had become so in tune to Lawrence's presence that he could easily tell it was flickering.

He pushed himself up and gazed at Lawrence. What he saw through the dark could only be described as the face of a dying man. Adam was left breathless. He held Lawrence's face between his hands.

Finally, he mustered up the courage to say what had only been said wordlessly up until that point.

"I love you." It felt so right. But the timing was so wrong.

Lawrence's eyes widened, shining brightly, even in the dark.

"Love," was all he said, and he'd only live to utter one other sound.

Lawrence Gordon's last word was Adam. And then he was gone.

At first, Adam was still. As if he'd been so braced for the impact that it had missed him entirely. He squeezed Lawrence's face in his hands until they started shaking. That's when it hit him.

He sat up, a huge black weight forming in his chest. He bit his knuckle, and tried his hardest not to scream. He somewhat failed. The cry was meek and pitiful, muffled by his trembling fist.

_Lawrence is gone. And it's all because of me. _

A frenzied sob escaped Adam's throat. He gripped his hair in fists, rocking slightly back and forth, the animal-like sounds still erupting from deep within.

It was while Adam was curling into a ball, bracing himself against the pain that came in waves, that his hand brushed against the second corpse in the room. It was the stranger with large, penetrating eyes. The one whom Adam had savagely murdered, only to protect Lawrence.

Funny, how Adam had tried so hard to save him, but he'd ended up bleeding to death anyways.

The stranger's face was nothing but a bloody lump; the frighteningly wide eyes open no more. Through his tears, Adam gazed at the gory mess. A glint in the corner of his eye distracted him. He reached out, past rational thought and prepared for anything, and his hand met metal. He closed his fingers around the object, and brought it to his eye level.

It was the gun. It had belonged to the stranger.

Adam stared hard at it, then back to where Lawrence's body was nothing but a rump in the darkness. And the part of his brain that was most affected by his ordeal, the one that was the least sane and the most twisted, handed him an idea.

He'd thought of it plenty of times throughout his life, but had always chickened out at the last minute. But this time was different. This time, he really _did_ have nothing to live for. Lawrence was dead, and he was still in chains. So honestly, what was the point?

As Adam dragged himself back to Lawrence, the gun held tightly in his fist, another thought hit him.

_Lawrence stayed behind for me. He suffered for me. He _died_ for me. I'm just honoring his memory here. This is me returning the favor. _

And Adam knew nothing would stop him now.

Leaning over the body, Adam gazed at Lawrence's face one last time. He reached out and, with the pads of his fingers, closed the elder's eyes. Then an idea bloomed in his mind. He craned his neck, hesitated, and then pressed his mouth to Lawrence's. It wasn't sensual. It wasn't passionate. It was simply a kiss. Like one a child would give his mother when saying good night. Lawrence's lips were cold, and they tasted of blood. But it was still beautiful.

It should've been their first kiss. Lawrence should've been alive for it.

Adam laid his head down, feeling more peaceful than he ever had in his lifetime. He reached out and gripped Lawrence's hand, squeezing the cold, frozen fingers.

And without another thought, Adam placed the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

And somewhere, in a place that was warm and dark and peaceful, for it was neither Heaven nor Hell, the two souls were together once more.

_If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied,_

_Illuminate the 'no's on their vacancy signs,_

_If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks,_

_Then I'll follow you into the dark._

**A/N: Yeesh. Well, in my defense, I hadn't intended for it to be this long. I just got so caught up in the man love, aha. For those who were genuinely curious, the second inspiration was Romeo and Juliet, which I am currently reading in my drama class at school. But truthfully, and quite unlike the play, I consider this a happy ending, even though I just killed off my two favorite characters... What do you think? Reviews are greatly appreciated. **

**Thanks for reading. :) **


End file.
